


Building Up Courage

by tarinumenesse



Series: Finding Our Feet [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Developing Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hope, Mental Health Issues, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Dorothea Arnault/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Minor Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Romance, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24073195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarinumenesse/pseuds/tarinumenesse
Summary: Dimitri falls in love from across a crowded room. But giving Byleth his heart is a lot easier than figuring out how to accept hers in return.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Finding Our Feet [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715935
Comments: 32
Kudos: 128





	Building Up Courage

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for themes of mental health and depression.

She was the most beautiful woman Dimitri had ever seen. Slim and graceful, with teal-coloured hair framing a pale, heart-shaped face. Her outfit suited the Victorian-style interior of Garreg Mach University’s grand ballroom: a high-necked, long-sleeved dress that echoed every movement, over lace-patterned stockings and heeled ankle boots. That same elegance existed in every gesture she made, from the way she lifted her wine glass to her lips, to how she glanced about the room. She was a figure from a dream, one to which Dimitri would gladly succumb forever.

He grabbed Ingrid’s arm and tore her away from the person she was speaking to.

“Do you know who that is?” he asked, pointing to the woman.

Ingrid looked across the room.

“Surprisingly, I do,” she said. “She takes riding lessons at the stables.”

Of course she was taking riding lessons. It suited her perfectly.

“What is her name?” Dimitri asked.

The corner of Ingrid’s mouth tilted up.

“Byleth,” she said. “She’s doing her doctorate in education.”

Dimitri released Ingrid. “Thank you.”

Before venturing across the room, Dimitri checked his shirt was properly tucked in and his tie flush with his collar. There was nothing wrong with introducing himself to a stranger at a networking event. The entire point was to make new connections.

However, by the time Dimitri reached Byleth she had started a conversation with two people who looked like professors. He was forced to hover on the outside of their little circle, a useless extra, too frightened of making a fool of himself to interrupt. He regretted not grabbing a drink on his way across the room so he looked less awkward. Better yet, he should have brought Ingrid.

Dimitri was about to retreat when Byleth suddenly met his eyes. She turned towards him and offered a small, confused smile as the professors continued to chat.

“Hello,” she said. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

Her voice was deeper than Dimitri had expected, but still musical and refined. Pleasant. He offered his hand.

“I’m Dimitri Blaiddyd,” he said.

“Byleth Eisner,” she replied.

When they touched, Dimitri swore he felt sparks of electricity leap between them.

“Oh bless!”

Dimitri had not been paying attention to the professors, but at the exclamation reminded him that they were there. Both were staring at him with undisguised eagerness. Abruptly becoming the centre of attention was little better than being a satellite, but at least the media’s sporadic interest in him over the years meant he knew how to deal with it.

“You must be the son of Lambert Blaiddyd,” said one professor, a tiny woman with greying red hair. “You look just like him.”

Dimitri released Byleth’s hand in favour of hers.

“I am,” he said. “It is a pleasure to meet you…?”

“This is Professor Edith, from the education faculty,” Byleth said.

“I was a great supporter of your father’s,” Professor Edith said. She squeezed Dimitri’s hand between hers in an almost motherly gesture. “The Faerghus Party never had a better leader.”

Dimitri forced a smile. “Thank you.”

The other professor, a tall man with an impressive moustache, pushed Professor Edith out of the way and seized Dimitri’s hand.

“I am Hanneman von Essar,” he said. “Our meeting must be providence.”

Dimitri frowned and tried to break the handshake. Professor Hanneman wouldn’t allow it.

“How so?” Dimitri asked.

“My colleagues and I are analysing how your father’s death affected the 2007 election,” Hanneman said, eyes twinkling behind his monocle. “Perhaps you would grant me an interview? And, by any chance, are you in contact with Rodrigue Fraldarius? It would be fascinating to speak with him as well, as someone highly placed within the party and a person intimately affected by the accident…such good friends with your father…were you close with the boy who died?”

Blue lights flashed behind Dimitri’s eyes. By their glow, a stranger in uniform checked Glenn’s pulse and shook his head. And Dimitri could not find words, while Hanneman bounced back and forth on his feet, expectant and waiting.

“I need another drink!”

Dimitri jumped when Byleth looped her arm through his. She turned her mysterious, sea-blue eyes on him.

“You don’t have one, Dimitri,” she said. “Would you like to join me?”

Dimitri did not have time to even nod a farewell to the professors before Byleth was ushering him away. They were halfway across the room before he realised her wine glass was full. He extracted his arm from her grip.

“I’m all right, thank you,” he said. “I don’t need a drink.”

Byleth stopped. In the beat of silence while she turned to face him, Dimitri had time to reflect on how wrong the meeting had gone, to imagine how much worse it was likely about to become.

“You’ll have to forgive Professor Hanneman,” Byleth said. “He’s…extremely academic. He doesn’t pause to consider how his questions make people feel.”

Pity was a fairly common reaction. Dimitri scuffed his shoe against the carpet, waiting for the next line in the conversation. How many times had he heard it?

“So, what’s your course?”

Dimitri looked up sharply.

“Excuse me?” he said.

Byleth smiled gently.

“You’re a post-grad like me, aren’t you? Or have you come here with your partner?” Byleth glanced around the room curiously. “Where are they?”

In that moment, Dimitri knew he was doomed.

“She’s here,” Dimitri whispered to Sylvain.

There was no reason to speak softly. Neither Byleth nor her companion, a large, gruff-looking man, would hear him. They were taking seats on the other side of the theatre to Dimitri and his friends.

Nonetheless, he felt like he should whisper.

Sylvain, never a fan of discretion, dropped his program for the music department’s second-year showcase and craned his neck.

“Where?” he demanded.

It truly was time Dimitri learned that when he needed any sort of support, Sylvain was not the person to ask. Nothing good ever came of confiding in him. But it was too late, so Dimitri singled Byleth out.

Sylvain gave a low whistle.

“She is gorgeous,” he said. “But who’s the man?”

Sylvain squinted across the theatre, humming to himself, before he clapped a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder.

“Looks like you’re out of luck,” he said. “She’s into sugar daddies, not toy boys.”

Dimitri shrank down in his seat and glanced at the strangers around them. Ever since Ingrid had mentioned that Byleth was a few years older than them, Sylvain had felt the need to reference it at every opportunity—namely, if Byleth came up in conversation, or failing that, whenever Dimitri was nearby. Probably when he wasn’t, too.

Ingrid, meanwhile, picked up Sylvain’s program and shoved it back into his hands. He was lucky. A month earlier, it would have been an elbow to the side.

“That’s her father, you idiot,” Ingrid said. “Jeralt Eisner. He’s deputy head of the Sports Institute at the university.”

Sylvain whistled again.

“Are you sure you want to go there?” he asked Dimitri seriously. “He looks like he murdered someone. Maybe several someones. In cold blood. Buried them beside some highway…”

“Like Mr Galatea will do to you when he finds out?” Felix said without looking up from his own copy of the program.

“Don’t be stupid. Ingrid’s father adores me. Right, babe?”

“Of course,” Ingrid said absently, patting Sylvain’s hand. “Dimitri, she’s seen you.”

Dimitri whipped his eyes back to Byleth. As the house lights dimmed, she waved.

“Oh, you are talking to her afterwards if I have to drag you over there myself,” Sylvain said.

Threats were unnecessary. The moment the lights returned to their full strength, Byleth leaned across to her father and pointed in Dimitri’s direction. Jeralt Eisner’s eyes landed on him—not Sylvain, not Ingrid or Felix—and then Byleth was on her feet and scooting past the people in her row.

“Stay calm,” Sylvain advised. “We won’t let anyone murder you. Right, Felix?”

Felix gave an indifferent grunt.

By the time Byleth reached them, Dimitri’s insides were twisted in knots. He stared at her dumbly as she entered the row in front of them.

“Hello,” Byleth said, stopping before him.

“Hi,” Dimitri replied.

“You must be Byleth,” Sylvain said, leaning forward. “I’m Sylvain. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Byleth glanced at Dimitri. He had no idea what to say to fix what he knew she was thinking, and so shrugged. Byleth looked back at Sylvain with a polite smile on her face.

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “You’re a friend of Dimitri’s?”

“And Ingrid’s boyfriend,” Sylvain said, proudly draping an arm over Ingrid’s shoulders.

Ingrid lifted a hand in greeting. Dimitri wondered if he was imagining the relief in Byleth’s eyes.

“Ingrid,” Byleth said. “I haven’t seen you at the stables lately. Do you still ride?”

“I’ve had to go later in the day since semester started,” Ingrid said. “Most of my contact hours are in the morning. Have you met Felix?”

Byleth turned towards Felix, but he, as inclined to make conversation as usual, just nodded in her direction and returned to staring at the exit.

“You all came together?” Byleth asked.

Sylvain looked directly at Dimitri, his eyes wide and his head twitching in a clear message to _say anything_ , but Dimitri didn’t have the chance.

“I’m so happy you all came!”

Dorothea drew all eyes as she drifted down the row towards them. She was wearing a different dress to what she had worn on stage, one designed less for the opera and more for a nightclub. She lowered herself into the seat beside Felix, who whipped his arm from the rest as she raised her elbows onto it.

“Dorothea,” Sylvain said. “Felix was just saying how lovely you look tonight.”

Felix flushed crimson.

“Was he?” Dorothea said, her smile revealing she knew Sylvain was lying. She propped her chin on her hands and looked at Byleth. “So who is this?”

Dimitri caught the way Byleth’s eyes darted over Dorothea’s outfit. She tugged her coat over her own dress and crossed her arms.

“I’m Byleth,” she said softly. “You sang beautifully.”

“You’re too kind,” Dorothea said.

Dimitri gasped as an elbow jabbed his side. He tore his eyes from Byleth to glare at Sylvain, who winked at him dramatically.

“If you’ll excuse us, Byleth,” Sylvain said, rising. “Felix promised to buy Dorothea a drink.”

“I did n…”

Felix’s protest was cut off as he received the same treatment as Dimitri, but at Ingrid’s elbow.

“Oh,” Byleth said. “You’re leaving?”

Sylvain planted a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, using his entire weight to trap him in his seat as Ingrid and Felix stood.

“You can catch up to us, Dima,” Sylvain said. “We’ll be in the foyer.”

Dorothea glanced from Byleth to Dimitri and promptly got up as well.

“Lovely to meet you, Byleth,” she said, throwing her hair over her shoulder as she turned, and nearly whipping Felix across the face. Felix looked back to glare at Dimitri before he was herded out of the row by Ingrid.

“Take your time,” Sylvain sang.

“So you’re friends with Ingrid?” Byleth said, watching them go.

“Since we were kids,” Dimitri replied. He sighed. “Sylvain and Felix too, I guess.”

“That’s really nice,” Byleth said.

Dimitri could think of several other words to describe it, but the one Byleth had chosen was not untrue.

“It is,” he said.

Byleth knelt down on the seat that separated them and folded her arms over its back.

“Well, I won’t keep you from them,” she said. “But I wanted to ask for your help.”

“I’ll help you in any way I can,” Dimitri said.

“Maybe you should hear me out first,” Byleth suggested, tilting her head to the side.

Dimitri felt the flush across his cheeks. Why was he so juvenile?

“Of course,” he said. “But, I’m sure you wouldn’t be asking for anything…strange.”

The corner of Byleth’s lips rose. “I’ll leave that to you to judge.”

Dimitri glanced towards the floor, wishing he could disappear.

“I’m sorry,” Byleth said. “I shouldn’t tease you when I’m asking for help. Sorry.”

He looked up again. She was teasing him?

“I’m running a drop-in program for international students,” Byleth said. “To help them find their feet and understand their course. Last week, a French girl, Alice, came. She’s still learning the language, so it was difficult to communicate.”

Seeing his lifeline, Dimitri said, “You’re wondering if I can translate?”

Byleth sighed in relief. “Even if you can only manage the basics, I think it would be a big help. It’s on Thursday night. Let me know if you can make it?”

While she spoke, Byleth opened her purse and pulled out a business card. Dimitri took it and shoved it straight into his pocket.

“Thursday night is fine,” he said. Sylvain would not be happy he would miss the video game night they had planned, but there was nothing for it.

“Are you sure?” Byleth asked. “I don’t want to…”

“Completely.”

Byleth smiled and slung her purse over her shoulder.

“Then I'll see you on Thursday,” she said. “Thank you, Dimitri.”

“Anytime.”

Byleth walked back to the aisle, where her father was now waiting. Dimitri quickly stood and, unsure what compelled him, bowed to Jeralt. Jeralt raised an eyebrow, reminding Dimitri of Felix at his most sarcastic. Or perhaps a mass murderer. He would have to consult with Sylvain on that count.

The next night, Dimitri was reheating stew in the microwave when Felix entered the kitchen, threw his backpack onto the island bench and dropped onto a stool. The one that was squeaky and well-used, as opposed to its pristine pair.

“I need to stay the night,” he said.

Dimitri frowned. Felix often dropped in unannounced, as his only friend with a key to the house. (Ingrid had valiantly handed hers in when she started dating Sylvain.) But he never, unlike Ingrid, insisted on sleeping over.

“What happened?” Dimitri asked.

“Sylvain begged me to stay out of the apartment. Even let me borrow his car to get here.”

Dimitri winced. Now that Sylvain and Ingrid were a couple, discussing behaviour like that could only lead to things better not thought about. He turned and opened the cupboard above the microwave.

“You can sleep in Dedue’s old room,” Dimitri said, grabbing the bottle of medicine in front of the cereal. “I think the bed’s made.”

“Thanks.”

Dimitri shook a pill out onto his palm as the microwave beeped.

“That smells like my mum’s stew,” Felix said.

“It is.”

“Bastard.”

Dimitri smirked as he took the container out of the microwave. He could hear Felix crossing the kitchen.

“She takes better care of you than she does me,” Felix said, opening the cutlery drawer and grabbing a fork.

Dimitri pushed the container towards him.

“She’d bring you food too if you hadn’t complained about it,” he said.

“I was right to complain. She can’t just turn up at the apartment without calling, any hour of the day. I live with Sylvain, for goddess’s sake.”

Felix tasted the stew. He chewed slowly, then picked up the container and returned to the island bench.

“Also,” Felix said, pointing at Dimitri with his fork, “you owe me. Without you around, I’ll have to endure all of Sylvain’s matchmaking on Thursday. Just because he’s happy doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.”

Dimitri turned to the fridge with a laugh.

“How about cheese gratin, then?” he said.

Felix groaned. “Goddess, see? You’re the favourite son, I swear.”

Knowing Byleth was watching Dimitri as he sat down with Alice was nerve-racking. He was not unsure of his ability to translate anything Alice needed, but having to do it with Byleth in the room…it was worse than taking his TFI test. And she couldn’t even understand what he was saying.

When Byleth finally announced that they were done for the day, Dimitri leaned back in his chair, simply grateful it was over. Alice collected her things and offered him a smile.

“Merci Dimitri,” she said. “C’est plus clair maintenant.”

“Il n’y a pas de quoi,” Dimitri replied. “Au revoir.”

As Alice left, Byleth took her place, leaning against the table and crossing her arms.

“That was not high school French,” she said. “Why didn’t you say you’re fluent?”

Dimitri picked up his phone and clicked its cover off. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Byleth raised her eyebrows. Dimitri replaced the phone cover and stood, deciding to make a quick getaway. Only when he slung his satchel over his shoulder did he realise that he and Byleth were the last two people in the room. Even Ferdinand and Petra, the other two helpers, were gone.

“Did everyone else have plans?” Dimitri asked.

“I think they went for dinner.”

Dimitri shifted his bag. “And you?”

Byleth raised her fists with a wry smile. “Research,” she cheered.

“There’s a pub on the corner.”

Byleth lowered her fists slowly. Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck.

“I mean, if you want to get a drink first,” he said.

Knowing there was a very good chance he was about to be rejected, Dimitri pushed his phone into his pocket. He would leave the moment she said no, before his tongue could…

“Sure,” Byleth said, pushing herself off the table.

The pub was a student haunt, with ballpoint graffiti all over the walls and booths with low lighting. Dimitri led Byleth to one of those. He didn’t want an audience to whatever disaster he was about to cause.

As they put down their belongings, Dimitri pulled out his wallet.

“What would you like?” he asked.

Byleth paused as she took off her coat.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” she said.

“It’s okay. I want to.”

For a moment Byleth was still, then she shook her arms out of her sleeves and folded the coat in half.

“A ginger ale, then,” she said. “I probably shouldn’t drink when I’ll be studying later.”

Dimitri nodded, while internally regretting his choice of venue. When he returned to the table with their drinks, Byleth eyed his lemon squash.

“You don’t drink?” she asked.

“Not at the moment,” Dimitri said. He picked up his phone and checked it to discourage further questions. But Byleth simply chuckled and pulled her drink closer.

“Actually, I don’t either,” she said.

Dimitri lowered his phone to the table, while raising his eyes to her face.

“I assumed…you had wine at the networking event,” he said.

“It was the same glass all night. I only took a sip when I absolutely had to.”

Dimitri half stood.

“I am so sorry. Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“It’s okay,” Byleth said, reaching across the table and resting her hand on his arm. “We can go for coffee next time. Or better yet, tea.”

Dimitri sat back down as Byleth lifted her ginger ale. He obediently took his lemon squash and tapped his glass against hers. They both drank.

“So,” Byleth said, “you’re studying your masters, speak fluent French, and don’t drink right now. What am I missing?”

Her words ignited a transgressive hope in Dimitri. She was speaking as though they were on a date.

“I work part-time in a bookshop,” he said.

“That suits you.”

Dimitri frowned. “Does it?”

Byleth shrugged. “You seem very thoughtful,” she said, her cheeks colouring a little.

Was she blushing because of him? Because she though she had embarrassed herself in front of him?

“It just happened to be the job I got when I finished my degree,” Dimitri said. “They’ve been very good to me.”

“How so?”

Dimitri stirred his drink with the straw.

“What is your thesis topic?” he asked. “You never said, the other night.”

Byleth ran her finger around the top of her glass.

“I’m considering the effects of international exchange programs on the performance of participants in their overall academic results,” she said. “Case studies in Spain and Japan.”

“That explains the program.”

Byleth nodded.

“Actually,” she said, glancing up at him, “I’m travelling to Japan next month. For a research trip.”

Dimitri’s heart sank. “What date do you leave?”

“On the second.”

Only nine days away. That was barely enough time to arrange a second date. If this could even be counted as a first.

“I’ve never been to Japan,” Dimitri said.

Byleth’s eyes lit up. She folded her arms on the table, listing forward.

“You have to go,” she said. “It’s amazing. I first went when I was twenty, and I fell in love.”

“You’ve convinced me.”

She laughed, glancing down at her drink.

“Why education?” Dimitri asked.

This time, Byleth took longer to answer. Dimitri watched as she considered her answer, fascinated by the tiny expressions stealing across her face.

“I like helping people,” she said finally. “What about you? Why politics?”

Dimitri swallowed.

“Dad,” he said.

Usually, talking about his family was the last thing Dimitri wanted to do. It hurt less if he didn’t. And by the age of fifteen, he had learned that if he had nothing to say about his father, the media had no interest in him.

But with Byleth, it felt like a safe topic.

“You must miss him a lot,” she said, affirming his belief.

Dimitri crossed his arms and leaned on them. “He’s been gone for twelve years. But it doesn’t go away. To make things worse, every few years something drags it back into the news. The Faerghus party loses an election, or gets back into office. The tenth anniversary of his death.”

Byleth frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. Dimitri’s stomach twisted at the thought of receiving, albeit belatedly, her pity.

“And that,” he said, trying to counter it, “is without the strange things, like when this magazine decided I should be in a list of Fódlan’s richest bachelors or something. Apparently there was a huge gap in the local celebrity ranks.”

Dimitri laughed again, this time to cover his immediate regret at sharing something so embarrassing. But Byleth didn’t laugh. She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. It was warm.

“It won’t always be that way,” she said.

Dimitri winced.

“I mean…I don’t mind in one sense,” he said. “It means people remember my dad. But…it’s also private.”

Byleth bit her lip. She sat back in her chair again, looking away from him.

“The day your parents were killed,” she said, “I was having emergency heart surgery.”

Dimitri’s mind blanked. If there was a right thing to say, he didn’t know it. He stared at Byleth, searching his mind for that missing piece of information.

And she smiled.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “There’s no proper thing to say.”

Dimitri closed his eyes, thinking a moment.

“But you would have been fifteen,” he said.

“And a half,” Byleth said, as though it made a difference. “I was born with a heart defect. It went unnoticed until I started fainting, anywhere and everywhere.”

Dimitri didn’t understand. She was sitting in front of him, as perfect as she had ever been, and was telling him she was sick. Had been sick. Could have died.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

Byleth shrugged. “I guess…I just want you to know that I understand, if only a little.” She put her hands in her lap. “You see, there was a complication with the main surgery. A month after it, I was back in hospital for a pacemaker.”

Dimitri held up a hand. “You have a pacemaker?”

“The batteries have to be replaced every so often, but other than that I’m fine,” Byleth said. “Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to say. When I went back to school, after the surgeries, I was the girl with the literal broken heart. Everyone looked at me differently. Sports class was the worst part—I had to go, but I wasn’t allowed to join in on any team sports, and I had to get changed in the shower stall.”

Dimitri wrapped his hands around his drink, simply for something to do.

“But after I finished school, things changed,” Byleth continued. “I met people who didn’t know me for my dodgy heart. Now it only comes up when I want it to.”

She shrugged again and picked up her drink.

“I know it’s different for you, since what happened to you was international news,” she said. “But maybe it helps to know I understand.”

She didn’t feel pity for him. The idea was foreign enough that for a long moment, Dimitri was speechless. She genuinely seemed to care about him, about what had happened to him, but she didn’t pity him.

“You know that the accident happened in France, right?” he said.

“Yes.”

“I go back there a lot. There, I feel close to my parents, and Glenn, but, unlike here, people don’t recognise me. Sometimes I stay for a month or more, to escape. It’s not that I’m not proud of my father, but in France I’m just Dimitri. Not Lambert Blaiddyd’s boy.”

Having confessed one of the worst things about himself, Dimitri waited. Byleth nodded and picked up her drink.

“So that’s why you speak French so well,” she said with a smile.

Dimitri smiled back. “One of the reasons, anyway.”

“It was a date!” Sylvain said, clapping his hands with each word. Then he pushed himself up from the grass and brushed down his clothes. “And with that I leave you, or I’ll be late back to work. See you tonight, babe.”

Sylvain leaned over to kiss Ingrid before grabbing his car keys and waving to Dimitri and Felix. Once he was gone, Dimitri passed the container of sushi he had bought at the student cafeteria to Ingrid. She took it, looking at him in surprise.

“You don’t want it?” she said.

“I’m not hungry,” Dimitri said. “And you only had soup.”

Ingrid opened the sushi and studied her choices.

“For the record, I agree with Sylvain,” she said. “Also, she gave a lot of hints about seeing you again.”

“This is stupid,” Felix said. He shoved his backpack behind him and lay down, using it as a pillow. “A person can’t go on a date without knowing it.”

“Be kind or you’ll be next,” Ingrid said.

“I don’t know why you suddenly think you’re an expert on relationships,” Felix said, shading his eyes so he could look at his phone. “Dating Sylvain doesn’t count for much.”

Ingrid swatted Felix’s arm. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

“While you’re at it, tell him that if he mentions Dorothea one more time…”

“He knows you drove her home.”

“It was one in the morning! And that was three days ago, we haven’t talked since…”

On a normal day, Dimitri enjoyed his friends’ banter. But today he wished they would stop. When he woke up that morning, and felt that familiar feeling of dread and panic, he had forced himself to come to university rather than giving in. Knowing he was supposed to be having lunch with his friends. Knowing what would happen if he didn’t show.

But he was struggling.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Felix is right. I shouldn’t even be considering this.”

Felix lowered his phone.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said.

“It’s not fair on Byleth,” Dimitri said, shaking his head. “She’s amazing. Perfect. And I’m…”

Felix sat up. “Stop. You’ve known this girl for what, three weeks? She is not perfect.”

“This time Felix is right,” Ingrid said. “You shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

They must get sick of it, always having to give him advice.

Dimitri got up.

“Dimitri?” Ingrid said, as Felix sat up again.

“I’m fine,” Dimitri said, gesturing for Felix to stay put. “I’ve got a meeting with my supervisor tomorrow. I’m going to head home and finalise my reading list.”

Late that night, Dimitri was reading an article on democracy and Socrates when his phone buzzed. Welcoming the distraction, he dropped his highlighter and swiped open the message from Sylvain.

_I’ll give you a lift to uni tomorrow. If you’re going. Are you going?_

Dimitri sighed and typed a reply.

_I’m going._

He exchanged his phone for his cup of tea. It was hard to imagine where he would be without his friends. Probably nowhere good.

His phone buzzed again.

_See you at 7. And CALL HER._

Dimitri typed Byleth’s number into his phone, took a breath, and pressed the call button. He threw her card onto his desk when he heard the dial tone. On the fifth ring, it cut off.

“Hello?”

Dimitri jumped up from his chair.

“Hi, Byleth? It’s Dimitri.”

“Oh. Just a second.”

He heard footsteps and a door closing. Dimitri began to pace the length of his study.

“Sorry,” Byleth said. “I’m dropping some things at my dad’s place, to store while I’m away.”

“What about your apartment?” Dimitri asked, looking out the window to see the gardener watering his stepmother’s roses.

“The lease is up anyhow. I’ll find a new place when I get back.”

“I see. I can call back if you’re busy.”

“No, it’s okay. What can I help you with?”

Dimitri turned his back on the window and leaned against the sill.

“I’ve probably left this a bit late, since you’re leaving in two days, but I was wondering if you have time? Before you go.”

There was a pause.

“I’m so sorry,” Byleth said. “I’m really busy. There’s a lot to do.”

“That’s fine,” Dimitri said quickly. “Thought I’d check…”

“I wish I had time.”

Dimitri’s heart thumped.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri levered himself off the windowsill, glancing outside once more before wandering to the centre of the room.

“Then maybe I can see you when you get back?” he asked. “For that cup of tea.”

“Or you could call me while I’m away.”

“Would that be okay?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you to.”

Dimitri bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Then I’ll call you,” he said.

Three weeks later, Dimitri sat on the couch in the lounge room, waiting for his phone to ring. He had spent the morning in the library, an hour with his therapist, and two hours driving to and from the city in peak hour traffic, yet the five minutes he had spent waiting for Byleth to return his call felt longer.

When the phone did ring, he jumped. Dimitri fumbled with it, nearly dropping it all together, before pressing the accept button. Byleth appeared on the screen, sitting at the kitchen bench in the small one room she was renting in Tokyo.

“Hello there,” Byleth said.

“Hi,” Dimitri replied.

Byleth was wearing her glasses, and her hair was pinned on top of her head. Dimitri knew that meant she had been researching all day. Sure enough, before saying anything else, she turned the camera to show him a bento box.

“I haven’t eaten yet,” she said. Her hand darted into view to grab the chopsticks. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. It looks good.”

“I still can’t get over the meals in the convenience stores here.” Byleth reappeared. “So cheap and so delicious.”

Dimitri dropped his head against the couch back, holding the phone higher so he could still see her. She was focussing on her food now. Dimitri could imagine her sitting in front of him, her chopsticks wavering between the different options.

“I’m jealous,” he said.

“What did you eat?” she asked.

“Nothing special.”

Byleth glanced at the camera.

“Did you eat?”

Dimitri smiled. “Not yet.”

“It must be past midnight there!”

“It is.”

Byleth rested her chopsticks against her lips. After a few seconds, she pulled them away and said, “Then go make something. We can have dinner together.”

“Like a date?”

“Yes. Exactly like a date.”

Dimitri sat up straight. His comment had been part throwaway, but her answer was completely serious. Goddess, he hoped she wasn’t joking.

“I wish I could take you on a proper one,” he said.

Byleth’s cheeks coloured, visible despite the poor quality of the image.

“Play your cards right and you will,” she said.

With that, she laughed and looked away. Dimitri couldn’t prevent the stupid grin that spread across his face as he got up and headed towards the kitchen.

“When do you get back?” he asked.

“The seventh.”

“Is someone picking you up?”

“Oh no, don’t come to the airport,” Byleth said. “I look like a beast when I get off a plane.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Trust me on this one.”

“Well, if you insist, I guess I will see you afterwards.”

“I guess you will.”

Dimitri was early. He chose a table with a good view of the door. He checked his watch every two minutes. He wondered if the lilies were too much. He had chosen them because they were elegant, like Byleth, but perhaps she wouldn’t like them. He could still throw them away and she would be none the wiser.

The café door opened at exactly two o’clock and Byleth stepped around it. She wore a short-sleeved, blue dress that hugged her figure and showed off her legs. Her hair was longer than when she had left, and now had pastel green tips, something she had decided to try out in Japan. Most importantly, her eyes were just as bright as Dimitri remembered. She was beautiful. Goddess, so beautiful.

And when she saw him, she smiled. Smiled at him. Smiled because she had seen him.

Dimitri met her halfway across the café, flowers in hand. Byleth accepted them, and blushed when he kissed her cheek.

“Hello,” Dimitri said.

“Hello.” Byleth lifted the lilies to her nose. “These are lovely.”

“I missed you.”

Dimitri knew he should be embarrassed, saying something so sappy, but it was hard to when Byleth’s eyes danced because of it. He took her hand and led her to the table.

“This place,” he said, passing her the menu, “has the best selection of tea in the city. They source it from all around the world.”

Byleth looked down the list. “I’ll try the Crescent Moon,” she said.

“As you wish,” Dimitri said, standing.

They had spoken most of the days Byleth was away, but there was still a lot for her to tell. She showed Dimitri photographs of a picnic she had shared with her Japanese colleagues under the cherry blossom trees. She described the temples in Kyoto, gushing over her favourite, the golden temple Kinkakuji. Her eyes glazed over when she talked about the food.

Dimitri was interested in it all. He truly was. But he was also plagued by the desire to kiss her. They were finally in the same country, the same city, the same room, and it was overwhelming how much he wanted to touch her. It had been so long since he had felt that way. His doctor had said it was a side effect of the medication, but now, he realised it had been that way even before his diagnosis. Maybe the right person had been missing from his life?

“What about you?” Byleth asked when she reached the end of her stories. “What did your April look like?”

Dimitri shrugged. He was far less interesting than Meiji Jingu. Than her.

“You know,” he said. “Research and writing and supervisors ripping apart your arguments. The usual.”

“Supervisors are the worst,” Byleth said with a vehement nod.

Dimitri smiled. “He is helping. They’re not all bad.”

Byleth giggled. “No, they are not.”

Glancing at her cup, Dimitri saw she was finished.

“Shall we go for a walk?” he asked.

Byleth nodded. She picked up her purse, while Dimitri circled the table to draw back her chair. She looked at him quizzically as she rose.

“No one has ever helped with my chair before,” she said.

Dimitri jumped back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Byleth said, taking his hand. “It’s sweet.”

Dimitri knew he was turning red. To prevent Byleth from seeing, he rushed for the door, but she refused to let go of his hand and was drawn alongside him. When they emerged into the sunshine, she studied his face at length, which made it worse.

“I bet the girls loved you in high school,” Byleth said.

“What?”

“They would have teased you relentlessly to see your reaction.”

Dimitri looked straight ahead. It was easier to not blather on when he wasn’t looking at her.

“Perhaps,” he said.

“Well, it gives me a reason to hang around for the next date, at least.”

Dimitri stopped. Byleth turned to face him, without letting go of his hand.

“Am I not allowed to look forward to seeing you again?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Dimitri squeezed her hand. “If I’m allowed to feel the same way,” he said.

“You may,” Byleth replied, with a curt nod that was so like a school mistress, Dimitri laughed. This time, Byleth blushed.

“It’s crazy,” she said. “The longer I was in Japan, and the more we talked, the more I missed you. But we barely knew each other before I left. Do you think that’s a sign?”

Dimitri lifted his hand to her face and hooked her hair behind her ear.

“May I kiss you?” he asked.

Byleth responded by taking a step towards him and tilting her head back. Dimitri, his hand at her neck, leaned down and kissed her.

“Felix mentioned you have a new girlfriend,” Rodrigue said.

He lifted another container of food from the enormous bag he had brought and placed it in the fridge. Dimitri leaned against the island bench, unable to stop the smile that grew every time he thought of Byleth.

“She is amazing, Rodrigue. I feel so…” Dimitri searched for the word. “Happy.”

Rodrigue let the fridge door swing closed.

“How long have you two been dating?” he asked.

“Three weeks officially. But we spoke almost daily while she was in Japan. Honestly, I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Rodrigue nodded. He crossed the kitchen, stopping on the opposite side of the island to Dimitri.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, Dimitri,” Rodrigue said, crossing his arms. “I am sure the young lady is as wonderful as you say. But I would caution you not to mistake your feelings for anything more than they are.”

Dimitri shoved himself away from the bench.

“What did Felix tell you?” he demanded.

Rodrigue held up his hands.

“Nothing substantial,” he said. “You know Felix. But, enough for me to worry.”

“Then do you think I’m stupid?”

“Of course not,” Rodrigue protested, but Dimitri cut across him.

“Do you think I haven’t thought about whether it’s okay for me to date, whether she will accept me, whether this will fix me…”

Rodrigue rested his hands on the bench. “And that,” he said, interrupting Dimitri, “is what I was worried about.”

Dimitri’s anger dissolved as he realised what he had said. He dropped down onto the squeaky stool, embarrassed. Sometimes he didn’t know what he was thinking until it burst out of his mouth.

“I remember after the accident,” Rodrigue said. “The judge refused your testimony because you were a minor. And so you devoted yourself to learning French in a way that many thirteen-year-olds are incapable of.”

Dimitri had heard this before. He shook his head. “This isn’t like that,” he said.

“Neither was the trip to France after suspending your honours year, I suppose?”

Rodrigue’s tone was kind, but the words were enough to hurt. Dimitri picked up his phone, lying nearby, and fiddled with it.

“What do you want me to say?” he said.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Rodrigue replied. “I only want you to be well. You know Evangeline and I consider you a son.”

Dimitri placed his phone down. Rodrigue’s gentleness only made him more ashamed of his outburst.

“Her name’s Byleth,” he said.

“I look forward to meeting her.”

Dimitri looked up. Rodrigue was smiling again. In it, Dimitri saw the forgiveness he knew he barely deserved.

“Listen,” Rodrigue said, “check in with us every so often. Then my wife won’t feel the need to overload you with dinners, just to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’ll do that,” Dimitri said.

”Oh, and Evangeline said she packed extra gratin, in case Felix comes over.”

“And this is the lounge room,” Dimitri said, stepping back so that Byleth could enter.

Byleth’s eyes were wide as she wandered around the room. She paused at the windows, looking out at the garden. Dimitri leaned against the doorframe and watched her, enjoying the simple pleasure of her company in what was usually a very empty house. At least until she spun back and planted her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

“You’re rich,” she accused.

Dimitri rubbed his arm. “A little?” he said.

She laughed and threw herself onto the couch.

“I should have guessed, really, after the magazine,” she said.

Dimitri grimaced as he sat down beside her. Sylvain still had a copy of the horrid thing and had taken great delight in sharing it with Byleth.

“Please don’t mention that,” he said.

Byleth giggled as she leaned against him. “I was picturing a unit, or at most a small, suburban house,” she said.

“My family’s always had money,” Dimitri said. He glanced around the room, imagining how it must look to a newcomer. “I just inherited it. Really, I don’t even think of it as mine. But I guess I don’t realise how used to it I am.”

He sighed.

“I should be more like Felix and Sylvain. They set out on their own, got an apartment. They don’t get help from their parents. Except for Sylvain’s job, I guess. Maybe I should sell the place. It is too big for me…”

Byleth swung onto her knees. She took Dimitri’s face in her hands and kissed him.

“It’s not a flaw, to have money,” she said as she drew back. “It’s just more than I was expecting. And you shouldn’t sell your family home. This place is obviously important to you.”

She propped her elbow on his shoulder, surveying the lounge room again.

“It must be nice, having so much space to yourself,” she said. “No pesky roommates.”

“I had one,” Dimitri said. “Dedue. He moved out a few years ago, though.”

Byleth looked at him with her signature curiosity. She was so genuinely interested in everything. It made Dimitri think it must be exhausting, to live in her head.

“An old and close friend,” he said, tracing his fingers up her arm as he spoke. “We met when I went back to school, after the accident. He lost his family in a house fire.”

“Goddess,” Byleth breathed.

“When my uncle moved out—he left the moment I turned eighteen, never really liked it here—Dedue moved in. He had left his foster family a few months earlier and was struggling with rent, so it made sense.”

“Where is he now?”

“He moved interstate for work.”

“So you really live here alone.”

“If you can call it that, with Ingrid and Felix dropping by all the time.”

“They really care about you,” Byleth said, resting her head against her hand. “I’m a little jealous. I’ve never had friends like that.”

“It’s good of them.”

Byleth tapped her temple with a finger. “Are they likely to come around tonight?”

Dimitri swallowed. If his emphatic declaration that he was busy had gotten through at lunch, then no.

“Ingrid doesn’t come so often since she and Sylvain started dating,” he said. “And Felix is stressed over school, so…no.”

“So we have the place to ourselves.”

“Completely. Even the staff are finished for the day.”

Byleth dropped her arm off his shoulder, her eyes wide.

“Did you just say staff?” she said.

Dimitri reddened. “I know I sound like a toff,” he said. “But yes. There are staff who look after the house.”

A mischievous smile broke out across Byleth’s face. She moved, and suddenly was straddling Dimitri’s lap. He froze, barely daring to breath, as she put her hands behind his neck.

“A toff,” she repeated, raising her eyebrows.

Dimitri closed his eyes and groaned in embarrassment. Where did the words that fell from his mouth come from?

“Only a rich person would say something like that,” Byleth whispered in his ear.

Dimitri could smell her shampoo: a sweet, apple scent. He opened his eyes and rested his hands on her hips.

“I believe that, if you look into the history of the word, you’ll find it is lower class slang,” Dimitri said.

“Are you going to run with it?” Byleth said, tortuously shifting, bringing them closer together.

“I’m committed now.”

“Very well.” She lowered her eyes to his lips. “May I kiss you?”

“Goddess, yes,” Dimitri said.

It was not like the kisses they had shared previously. Before, they had been sweet and gentle, limited by the settings of cafes and the university and streets. But here, there was no audience, nothing to stop Dimitri from expressing how much he wanted Byleth. She responded in kind, quickly opening her mouth to his request and tightening her hold around his neck.

But Dimitri needed more. He slipped a hand under Byleth’s t-shirt and stroked the soft skin of her belly. Byleth murmured, and he allowed his fingers to dance a little higher, seeking permission.

Byleth pulled back, her eyes heavy-lidded as she seized his hand. They were still for a long moment, just looking at each other, both short of breath.

“Bedroom?” Byleth said finally.

Dimitri lifted Byleth off his lap and jumped up. He grabbed her hand, dragging her behind as he made for the stairs. She laughed. He adored that sound.

At his bedroom door, Dimitri decided it had been too long since he had kissed Byleth. He tugged her hand, spinning her to face him. Her hands landed on his chest. She glanced up at him, biting her lip, then focussed on his shirt, studiously undoing the buttons, one by one. Dimitri happily abandoned his original plan so she could continue, opting instead to back her towards the bed.

Byleth managed to remove his shirt entirely as they reached it. She took a step back, examining him with her eyes, her hands warm on his shoulders. Dimitri shivered, from the contrast of the cold air in the room, or the anticipation, he didn’t know. But it caused Byleth lifted her eyes to his. Then she ran her hand from his shoulder across his skin, stopping at the waistband of his trousers.

“You’re perfect,” she said.

Dimitri crushed her against him and kissed her. Byleth sat down on the bed, drawing him after her.

It was only a few moments before Dimitri’s mind cleared enough to realise he needed to settle the score. Pressing kisses to her neck, he tugged at the hem of her t-shirt, seeking skin.

Byleth grabbed his wrist, her grip so tight as to be painful. Dimitri stopped. He took a breath, then pulled back.

Byleth didn’t move. Something had changed.

Unsure what else to do, Dimitri shifted back onto his elbow to lie beside her. Byleth’s hand fell from his wrist, breaking their last point of contact. She pressed her lips together, then sat up, drawing her knees to her chest and covering her face with her hands.

“By?” Dimitri said, sitting up too.

“I’m sorry, just give me a minute,” she said.

“Byleth, what is it?” Dimitri asked. He felt scared. Worried. Had he done something wrong?

Byleth took a breath. “It’s nothing.”

She turned to him and grasped his hands.

“Let me?” she said.

Dimitri kissed her chastely, not knowing how else to comfort her.

“Of course,” he said.

Byleth let him go. She closed her eyes and pulled her t-shirt over her head. And all Dimitri could do was stare.

Between Byleth’s breasts, stretching from beneath her collarbone to below her bra, was a scar. While the whole had a reddish tint, the end near her neck was visibly raised and darker. And below her left shoulder, partially obscured by her bra strap, were two more, each about the length of Dimitri’s finger. One tilted towards her armpit, slightly longer than the other.

He was an idiot. Heart surgery. Dimitri had never considered what those two words actually meant. Nor given a second thought to Byleth’s passing comment about changing clothes in shower stalls, or her preference for high necklines and sleeves, even as the weather grew warmer. She had told him about her surgery and that was that: she had a pacemaker, she was better. What more could there be to it?

When Dimitri lifted his eyes to Byleth’s face, she avoided them and crossed her arms, as though cold. Or ashamed. He felt sick, realising that, caught up in his own need, he might have coerced her into something she wasn’t comfortable with.

Dimitri shifted to the edge of the bed and dropped his feet to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to…do you want to stop?”

He jumped when Byleth grabbed his arm.

“No!” she said. “No, I want this. I want you.”

Dimitri turned back to her, searching her face. Byleth sighed.

“I just want this part to be over,” she said. “And I wanted to be the one to show you. But…I’ve been so nervous about you seeing them.”

His heart cracked a little. “Why?” he whispered.

“Because I care so much about you,” Byleth said. “I couldn’t bear it if you…anyway, I thought I could push through it, but seems not. It didn’t seem right to…keep going without you having time. To think.”

Dimitri swallowed. He didn’t understand why she was embarrassed. The scars didn’t change how he felt about her, didn’t change how much he wanted her. If anything, they were a symbol of how strong she was.

But he also understood, better than most, that sometimes emotions couldn’t be explained.

Dimitri nudged her backwards. She complied, her eyes wary as Dimitri knelt on the bed in front of her. He raised his fingers to the top of the largest scar, watching those eyes for a signal to stop. None came.

“This is from the first surgery?” he asked, caressing it.

Byleth nodded.

“There were some, um, complications when it healed,” she said. “That’s why it’s so…”

She trailed off, but Dimitri heard the word in the way she averted her eyes. He moved on, deciding there was plenty of time to address that misconception.

“And these?”

Byleth tensed as Dimitri slid her bra strap off her shoulder, revealing the scars in their entirety so he could run his thumb along them.

“The first pacemaker surgery,” Byleth said, “and changing the batteries.”

She choked a laugh. Dimitri’s hand stilled.

“Byleth,” he said.

“Yes?”

“I…”

The rest of the words stuck in Dimitri’s throat. He wanted desperately for Byleth to see herself the way he did, but at once he realised that it was not going to be an easy task. Or perhaps not even one that would be completed tonight.

Instead of finishing his sentence, Dimitri took Byleth in his arms and lowered her to the bed. She frowned, lifting her hand to his cheek, asking him what was wrong. But there was no point talking. Words couldn’t always fix things.

Dimitri lifted himself over Byleth, brushing her hair from her eyes. Then he bent down and kissed the pacemaker scars, one after the other. As he moved to the one between her breasts, he felt a shiver pass through Byleth’s body.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered against her skin.

Byleth’s fingers tangled in his hair. Dimitri raised his head, questioning, and Byleth captured his lips with hers.

The student union building wasn’t very busy. The main lunch hour had passed and there were a lot of free tables. Nonetheless, Dimitri wandered about for a long time, back and forth, before he chose one. He sat down and put his lunch on the table. He dug Byleth’s from his bag and placed it in front of the chair opposite. He set their chopsticks on napkins. Finally, he picked up his phone and typed a message to Byleth.

A few minutes later, a weight fell against his back.

“Found you.”

Dimitri lifted his head. Byleth kissed him, lingering over it as though they had been separated for weeks, instead of the few hours since he had left her apartment that morning.

“It has been a crazy day so far,” Byleth said, giving him one last peck before she sat down. “And I still have two tutorials to go. Why did I take such a heavy load?”

“Because you enjoy it,” Dimitri said.

Byleth grinned and opened the pack of sushi Dimitri had bought her. He watched as she bit into a roll. She closed her eyes in delight.

“Thank you,” she said.

Dimitri shrugged. He picked up his chopsticks and moved the chicken in his rice to the side. When he looked up again, Byleth was watching him. She put the sushi roll down and lifted her napkin to her mouth.

“What about you?” she asked. “Classes this afternoon?”

Dimitri put down his chopsticks and flexed his hand.

“No,” he said. “I’ve got an appointment with my therapist.”

For a moment, Byleth didn’t move. Then she lowered the napkin, scrunching it in her fist.

“You haven’t mentioned that before,” she said.

Her tone wasn’t angry, or cold, or distant. Just curious.

“It’s part of my treatment,” Dimitri said, managing to meet her gaze. “For depression.”

Byleth reached across the table and took his hand.

“How often do you go?” she asked.

Dimitri wrapped his fingers around hers. “At the moment, once a fortnight.”

“And it helps?”

“It does. So does the medication.”

Byleth bit her lip.

“I’ve been on it for thirteen months now,” Dimitri said, rushing through it. “It took a little while to get the right one. But I want to get off it eventually, and my doctor agrees. I could even start decreasing the dosage now…”

“Dimitri,” Byleth said.

He looked at her.

“I have a confession,” she said. “I came across your medicine the other morning. In your house, while I was looking for teabags.”

Dimitri’s heart skipped. He pulled his hand from hers.

“You knew?”

Byleth dropped her hand into her lap. “It was clear what it was.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dimitri demanded.

“I didn’t want to pressure you.”

Dimitri raked his fingers through his hair. “Goddess,” he swore. “I’ve been worrying about telling you this for days. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“I’m sorry, Dimitri. I should’ve brought it up…”

“I thought you’d be angry at me,” Dimitri interrupted. “For keeping such a massive secret. I’m still terrified you’ll leave me because of it.”

Byleth tilted her head to the side, her face pensive. Dimitri sighed and reached for her again. She put her hand into his.

“By,” he said, “I still have bad days. I’m not better yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. It wasn’t fair to keep this from you.”

“There’s no right or wrong here,” Byleth said.

“But there is. I led you on. This isn’t a new thing; I’ve had it since my honours year. Not that I knew it then, I didn’t know it till after I went to France, and things got really bad, but…by keeping this from you, I’ve promised you things I can’t deliver…”

“Dimitri,” Byleth said.

He met her eyes.

“You promised me I could look forward to seeing you again,” she said. “That’s all. Has that changed?”

As though it ever could.

“Has it changed for you?” Dimitri asked.

“No.”

A week later, Dimitri stopped his car outside Byleth’s apartment building. He checked his phone. Ten thirty. Exactly on time. He got out and went to the building’s entrance.

It took Byleth several minutes to answer the call button.

“It’s just me,” Dimitri said.

“Come up, I’m almost ready!”

The door of the building clicked and Dimitri entered.

When he reached Byleth’s apartment, he knocked. Once again, there was no answer for a few minutes. When the door finally opened, it was to Byleth, dressed, but with wet hair and no shoes.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I overslept. I was up so late last night…”

Dimitri smiled as he stepped inside.

“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s not like Sylvain’s ever on time.”

“But it’s his birthday,” Byleth said.

Dimitri kissed her. “It’s cute that you’re so worried about my friends.”

“I want them to like me.”

“They do like you. Everyone likes you.”

“Still,” Byleth said.

She ducked into the bathroom, then abruptly returned and kissed him.

“How are you today?” she asked.

Dimitri smiled and rubbed her arms. “I’m fine,” he said.

Byleth studied his face for a long moment, then disappeared into the bathroom again.

Dimitri wandered further into the apartment. He smiled when he saw a wrapped gift sitting on Byleth’s dining table. He had suspected she would get something, from all the messages he’d received the previous day questioning Sylvain’s likes and dislikes.

“Did you buy the Go set?” Dimitri called.

“Do you think he’ll like it?”

Dimitri turned to see Byleth peeking around the archway, hairbrush in hand and her wet hair falling in her eyes. He realised she hadn’t done her makeup yet either.

And at that moment, it hit Dimitri, in full force and irrevocably.

“I love you, Byleth,” he said.

Byleth’s lips parted. She stared at him, for a long moment, the silence heavy. But Dimitri didn’t regret what he had said.

And then she smiled.

“I love you too, Dimitri,” she said.

**Author's Note:**

> I got super carried away with this one, because damn it but I love these two so much. But also because things got a bit more serious. But mainly because I love them.
> 
> Overall, I've really enjoyed writing this AU. Because of the fragmented nature of these stories, there are actually a lot of scenes and cameos that didn't make the cut, and I developed way more background stuff than I really needed. So...I'm not gonna promise another instalment, but I ain't not gonna rule it out either.
> 
> And remember if you are ever in a place where you feel like there is no escape, there are people who care and will help. Talk to someone you trust or contact a helpline in your country.
> 
> Keep safe.


End file.
